Book: One?

You know how scared? He's so small! So I had to go after him. But here... She abruptly looks back at the field, as if frightened of being overheard, and continues more quietly: - I Here looking for it again and again. Nothing has ended. Even here, I can't see him.

Because people are noisy. They must be very noisy. Their cars, their music, their endless conversations. People are always noisy. All. All the noise, because I'm afraid of silence. And all run, if only to keep up, exhausted, grasping teeth for any opportunity, erased fingers in blood, tear your nails, lose the soul in its desire to break out of the flow, not to dissolve in solitude, lost and forgotten by all. No one understands that insurance against loneliness does not exist.